Mourning
by a fan
Summary: Summary: Logan, Bling and Charlie deal with the death of Max and Tinga. There are some great post AJBAC rescue fics out there but not alot dealing with Logan's emotions prior to his finding out that Max is alive. This fic takes a deeper look at how Logan
1. Bling

Disclaimer: I don't own em'  
  
Title: Mourning  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: All episodes  
  
Summary: Logan, Bling and Charlie deal with the death of Max and Tinga.  
  
  
Chapter 1: Bling  
  
  
Bling awoke with a start. The phone was ringing. He rubbed his face with one hand as he snatched up the phone with the other. He must have fallen asleep on the couch waiting to hear from Logan. It had been seventy-two hours since Logan had left with Lydecker and the others. He peered at the clock as he moved the receiver to his ear. The red digits glowed in the darkness of the room. 4:00 am.  
  
"Yes?" His voice was hoarse from sleep.  
  
"Come and get him." The voice on the other side was short and passionless.  
  
Bling rolled his head side to side to work out the kinks in his neck. Then in one smooth motion he grabbed Logan's keys from beside the phone and walked out the door shutting it quietly behind him. He hit the elevator button and waited for the elevator to work its way up from the ground floor. He ran the pass card through the scanner hit 'P' and tried to focus on the sound of the gears turning as the elevator ground its way down to the parking garage. He climbed into Logan's Aztec and started the engine. He had no problem with the accelerator and brake levers that Logan needed to drive the car. He had taught Logan how to use them.  
  
The city was still dark and quiet as he wound his way through the sector checkpoints to the city limits. He appreciated the silence. It helped him get his thoughts together, to prepare for what he would find. Logan had been out of communication too long. He knew that whatever it was would not be good.  
  
The doors of the warehouse were blown off. Bling drove right in and stopped in the middle of the floor. The warehouse appeared abandoned. The only sign that there had been anyone there recently were three pizza boxes left on an old bench. Bling got out of the car, leaned on the driver's door and waited.   
  
Two minutes later a van pulled up beside him. Lydecker climbed out from behind the wheel and walked around the van to the side nearest Bling. He slid open the side door to reveal a semiconscious Logan lying on the floor. Dried blood was smeared over his right temple and caked into his hair. His eyes were feverish and unfocused.  
  
"We destroyed the DNA lab. Zack was wounded and captured. Max is dead. We left her body behind. Syl and Krit have left." Lydecker's voice and eyes were cold as he reported the results of the mission. He nodded towards Logan. "He has a concussion. I hit him with my rifle butt to get him out of there. He wouldn't leave her." Bling nodded back at him in understanding.  
  
Lydecker pulled Logan out of the van, swung him over his shoulder and deposited him in the passenger seat of the Aztec. He scanned the room, noticed the pizza boxes and walked over to collect them. He threw them in the back of the van and slammed the door shut. He walked around the front of the van and opened the driver's door then paused in a moment of indecision. He shut the door, walked back over to Logan and for a moment his steely mask crumpled into sorrow.  
  
"I'm so sorry son." The words momentarily pierced Logan's haze and he looked up at Lydecker with grief and desperation in his eyes. Lydecker placed a comforting hand on Logan's shoulder, sharing his loss, until Logan fell back into unconsciousness. He then walked back to the van, surveyed the interior of the warehouse one final time to confirm there were no indications of their presence remaining then quickly climbed in, slammed the door and drove off.  
  
Bling climbed back into the car. He leaned over to check Logan's heartrate and respiration and confirming that they were stable he started the engine and drove out of the warehouse. The sector checkpoints on the way home were not difficult to navigate. A few well-placed comments about a bar brawl and the sector guards waved them through.   
  
It was still very early. Bling was grateful that the streets were still deserted. He was able to make good time back to Fogle Towers. He pulled into the parking stall nearest the elevator then pulled Logan out of the car and swung him over his shoulder in the same fashion Lydecker had done less than an hour before. As the elevator doors opened he walked in, and ran the passcard through the scanner and pressed the penthouse button.   
  
Bling carried Logan out of the elevator into the apartment and placed him on the bed. He went to the bathroom to retrieve a couple of wet cloths and began washing off the blood from Logan's temple. Logan stirred at the touch but didn't awake. His breathing was regular so Bling didn't fear allowing Logan to sleep. When he was satisfied with the cleanup job he tossed the cloths in the bathroom sink. Then he pulled up a chair beside the bed and settled in to watch Logan until he regained consciousness. It was only then that he allowed himself to acknowledge Max's death and Logan's loss. As the feelings overtook him he bent over and wept with enormous silent sobs that shook his body.  
  
  
To be continued....  



	2. Logan

Disclaimer: I don't own em'  
  
Title: Mourning  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: All episodes  
  
Summary: Logan, Bling and Charlie deal with the death of Max and Tinga.  
  
  
Chapter 2. Logan  
  
  
Logan woke up in his own bed. The sunlight streaming through the window shone on his face causing him to squint. He raised his right arm to shield his eyes from the brightness which only exacerbated the throbbing in his head. His hand drifted to his temple where he could feel the cause of the throbbing. There were stitches there, holding the wound together. He remembered Lydecker stitching him up somewhere along the road back. The blood was gone now, Bling had obviously washed it away. The exoskeleton and his clothes were also gone. He was lying in his shorts under the blanket.  
  
He sat up with a start at the thought of his clothes. He pushed his legs over the edge of the bed and steadied himself for a moment as a wave of vertigo hit him. Then he slid into the wheelchair, which Bling had placed, by the bed.  
  
He found Bling at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.  
  
"Bling, where are my clothes?" There was a note of franticness in his voice.  
  
"Laundry hamper." Bling looked up. His red swollen eyes barely registered in Logan's consciousness.  
  
Logan quickly wheeled to the bathroom followed closely behind by Bling. He tossed the lid off the hamper and yanked out the bloodied heap of clothes. They were stiff now, the blood darkened and dried. Max's blood.   
  
"Oh god oh god oh god." The words escaped involuntarily from Logan's mouth.   
Bling stood in the doorway, tears streaming down his face, as he watched Logan clutch the clothes tightly to his chest, his head and shoulders bowed by the enormity of his loss.  
  
"Logan..." Bling placed a gentle hand on Logan's shoulder hoping to offer a little comfort. At his touch Logan turned and handed him the clothes.  
  
"Don't wash them." His voice was barely a whisper. Logan's face was tearless, dispassionate. He was holding onto his grief, suppressing it. He couldn't allow himself to mourn.  
  
As Bling left the bathroom with the clothes Logan rolled himself into the shower and shut the door. He stripped off his shorts and tossed them out of the stall. He turned on the water and focused on its warm steady stream as it drummed on to his back. He watched the soap wash away the blood and grime and sweat of the week. It pooled in small puddles by the drain before pouring over the edge and into the pipes. He closed his eyes as he washed his hair feeling the shampoo work through its coarseness. He let the water pour over him again listening once more to its drum beat. Eventually he opened the shower door and reached for the towel that always hung on the hook just outside the door. He dried himself thoroughly finishing with his hair then leaned forward in his chair and wrapped the towel around his waist. He pushed himself to the sink pulled out his shaving kit, changed the blades and adjusted the razor. He worked up a lather with an old fashioned brush his father had given to him years ago. He worked carefully as he shaved a week's worth of growth from his face. He washed the brush and razor thoroughly and washed the shavings down the drain. He dried his face with a facecloth then used it to wipe away any residue remaining in the sink. He pulled out his toothbrush, brushed his teeth then followed up with some mouthwash. He swished it in his mouth driving the burning liquid between his teeth and around his gums. He spat in the sink then stared at himself in the mirror. Not satisfied he started the routine again.  
  
He rolled back into the shower and started the water again. He washed faster, more agressively, this time trying to scrub the last few days off his skin. He stayed under the water even longer trying to get lost in the beats. He retrieved an extra towel from the closet then moved back to the sink to shave a second time though he didn't need to. He brushed his teeth again taking longer this time, feeling every stroke then he pulled out the mouthwash and took another swig. The burn was stronger this time, stinging his gums which were sensitive from the excess brushing. His skin felt raw too from the extra round of washing. This was good. It was something he could focus on. He picked up his shorts and threw them along with the towels into the now empty laundry hamper.  
  
Logan wheeled himself into the bedroom and put on a clean pair of shorts. He retrieved the exoskeleton from its post against the wall and strapped it on. He turned it on then stood up and walked to the closet. He threw on a tshirt and sweater, found a pair of jeans and pulled them on. He was glad they still fit over the exoskeleton, that he didn't have to buy new pants. He checked the clock as he walked out of the bedroom. 1:00 pm. It had taken him two hours to get dressed. Two hours survived and an eternity to go.  
  
He found Bling at the computer checking for communication from Syl or Krit or even Lydecker.  
  
"Nothing yet." Bling turned toward Logan. His eyes were still red. There were fresh tear stains on his cheeks which he hadn't bothered to wipe away. He had been crying again.  
  
"You hungry?" Logan walked into the kitchen and checked the supplies, bread, swiss cheese, lettuce, tomatoes. He pulled out the loaf of french bread and cut several thick slices. He found the mayonaise and dijon mustard and spread it on the bread. He sliced the cheese and the tomatoes focusing on the rhythm of the knife on cutting board. He tore off a few leaves of lettuce and washed them under the sink. He built two sandwiches placed them on plates and walked back over to Bling. He sat on the edge of the desk as he handed Bling a plate. They ate in silence.  
  
Logan took the dishes back to the sink and washed them up. He put away the food and wiped down the counters. He rinsed out the dishcloth, wrung it out and folded it over a rack to dry. He dried the dishes and placed them back in the cupboard. 1:45 pm.  
  
Logan walked over to the window and stared down at the city below. An hour later he walked into the bedroom and stripped down to tshirt and shorts. He left the exoskeleton on and walked back at the training room.   
  
He picked up a couple of dumbbells and lay back on the bench to warm up the bench press. He continued to warm up several exercises military press, triceps kickbacks, lat pulldowns, and bicep curls doing 15 repetitions each. He selected a heavier weight and started on another round of 15. He selected a heavier weight again this time completing a set of 10 repetitions. He continued building a pyramid with each exercise, working through sets of 8, 6, 4 and 2 repetitions, increasing the weight each time. As he worked his way back down the pyramid he decreased the weights and increased the repetitions then moved on to the next exercise. He stopped for a drink of water then started a second round. He could feel fatigue begin to affect his muscles so he focused more intently on technique as he completed each repetition. Abs engaged, elbows slightly bent, posture relaxed, exhale on exertion and repeat. As he worked through a third set he could feel his muscles shaking with exertion and his breathing get heavier. He stopped for some more water and started on a fourth round. He pushed through each repetition forcing his muscles to do the work. He counted out each set as he worked focusing on the rhythm of the numbers in his head. By the end of the set he was barely able to complete the repetitions. He took a small break and moved on to the next exercise. At the end of the round he drank some more water, his heart pounding and his breathing laboured. He could feel his arms shaking as he reached for the bottle of water. He would be sore tomorrow. This was good, another thing to focus on. He waited a few minutes to allow his muscles to recover then picked up the weights again. As he moved towards the bench to start a fifth round he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"That's enough." Bling's voice was quite.   
  
Logan looked at the clock again. 5:00 pm. He put down the weights and walked back into the bedroom. He sat in his wheelchair, took off the exoskeleton and headed to the bathroom for another shower. Six hours filled and an eternity to go.  
  
Logan prepared dinner for Bling grateful for the familiar routine of cooking. He set the table and they sat down to eat once again.  
  
"Logan?" He looked up to meet Bling's gaze.  
  
"If you want to talk..." Bling's tears had been replaced by an intense look of concern for Logan.  
  
Logan nodded his head in acknowledgement, but there was nothing to talk about.   
  
Logan cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen then returned to the window. He watched as the sun set and the city wound down for the night. There was nothing else to do. Max was dead.  
  
At 2:00 am he grabbed his keys and left the apartment. He climbed in the car and headed out into the night. Thirty minutes later he pulled up at the gate of the space needle and climbed out of the car. He slipped through the hole in the chain link fence that he and Max had cut when she had brought him here just last week. The ends of the wire were still fresh where they were cut. Max had never bothered to cut a hole the fence before, she would always jump over it, but for Logan she had brought a pair of wire cutters.   
  
Logan walked in the building and looked up the elevator shaft. It was long since out of commission. Even the box was missing. Someone had probably claimed it to build a shelter somewhere. Logan opened the door to the stairwell and began the long climb to the top. He stopped every five flights to take a break. The exoskeleton didn't do all the work for him, it just magnified the signals to his leg muscles, so strength and fatigue were still a factor. He discovered this when he had tried to pick up Max in the forest. The exoskeleton ground out the signal but his legs could not bear the weight. He was at the fifteenth floor now, halfway there. He was grateful for the trip to the top, the time it took, the work involved, the concentration it required. He was in no hurry, he had so much time to fill. He took a swig of water from the bottle he brought with him and started on another five flights. He immersed himself in the routine, fifteen stairs per flight, five flights up, rest for five minutes, drink some water and start again. At the top he pushed open the roof maintenance hatch and climbed out onto the roof.  
  
Logan walked to the edge of the roof and peered over at the city below. Logan sat down near the ledge and hugged his knees to his chest. He didn't fear the height any more. His worst fear had already come true and all others were insignificant in comparison. Max was dead. The scar on his temple and his bloody clothes were constant reminders of this fact. They were covered in Max's blood, they blood that had streamed out of her chest and onto his shirt, his pants and his hands. She was dead. He knew it. Yet he couldn't help hoping that she was somehow okay. That she was still out there. They had abandoned her body back in the woods. There would be no memorial service, no funeral, no gravesite. There would be no closure.  
  
Logan watched as the sleeping city below began to awake. The sky changed from black to navy to grey as the light began to come over the horizon. It was accompanied by a stream of people heading to the downtown core. It began as a trickle, a few headlights here, a pedestrian there, then continued to grow into a river of people.  
  
When the sun was full in the sky Logan stood up, climbed through the roof hatch and began the long walk down the stairs. He stopped again at the halfway point to rest his legs. He counted the steps to each landing, the numbers in his head accompanying each foot fall as he worked his way down. He slid through the hole in the fence and climbed into the car to join the stream of people heading into the city.  
  
The drive home was slow as he worked his way through the morning traffic. He was just another cog in the wheels of the city, moving in slow motion, watching the world go by. When he got home Bling had already made breakfast. He sat down to eat it then went to bed for a few hours.  
  
He had established his routine, go through the motions, focus on the details, pretend to be engaged, get through the day. One day survived and an eternity to go.  
  
Three mornings later Logan walked into the apartment to the smell of Bling's cooking. There was toast on the table, dark brown the way he liked it. Bling was dishing scrambled eggs onto a couple of plates. Logan opened the cupboard, retrieved two glasses and placed them on the table. He walked over to the fridge removed a pitcher of orange juice and returned to the table. As he poured the juice Bling brought the plates to the table and placed one in front of him. He accepted a glass of juice and sat down across from Logan. They ate in silence lost in their thoughts.  
  
"Were you up at the needle again?" Bling's voice punctuated the quiet. Logan nodded and they went back to their food neither wanting to fill the air with useless words.  
  
"I'm going to visit Charlie." Bling's head shot up at Logan's statement. Logan was still looking at his eggs pushing them around his plate with his fork.  
  
"I'm coming with you." Bling got up to clear the dishes away.  
  
To be continued...  



	3. Charlie

Disclaimer: I don't own em'  
  
Title: Mourning  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: All episodes  
  
Summary: Logan, Bling and Charlie deal with the death of Max and Tinga.  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Charlie  
  
Logan and Bling spent the next few hours preparing to travel to Canada.  
  
Bling retrieved several thousand dollars from the safe, money that had been earmarked for the cervochip, and left the apartment. While Bling was gone Logan prepared their identification. It took him few hours to track down the sector passes they would need and to prepare Canadian passports and driver's licenses. When the Id's were complete he packed a couple of duffel bags with a few clothes and toiletries and left them beside the door. He looked at his wheelchair sitting in the training room. He paused for a moment then retrieved it and placed it by the door. It was still a part of his life. He picked up one duffel bag and hung it on the back of the chair then he walked over to the phone, picked it up and dialed.  
  
"Mrs. Mareno. This is Logan from downstairs. I just wanted you to know that Bling and I are going camping for a couple of weeks. We want to take advantage of this good weather while it lasts." Logan paused for a moment. "Thanks Mrs. Mareno, we'll have a good time." Their destination was now established.  
  
With his preparations complete Logan walked over to the computer to check on communications from the others. He had been home three days but he had not heard anything new. He then tried hacking into Manticore but most of their system was down. Logan turned off his computer in frustration. Visiting Charlie was so irrational. He was going to be out of touch for a long time yet he felt compelled to go.  
  
Bling returned a short while later, tossed a set of keys at Logan, grabbed the wheelchair and walked back out the door. Logan followed towing the other duffel bag. They took the elevator to the main lobby then headed out onto the street.  
  
"Hey, great car Bling!" Logan tossed the keys back at Bling and climbed into the passenger side of the twenty-year old jeep. They had decided that they didn't want Logan's Aztec connected in any way to Charlie.  
  
"I picked it up this week. Thought we'd head out of town for a while and celebrate your new found mobility." Bling opened the hatch of the jeep and tossed the wheelchair and duffel bags in with the gasoline and the rest of the "camping" gear he had picked up for the trip.   
  
"Ready?" Bling climbed in behind the wheel and looked at Logan.  
  
"Yeah." Logan replied as they headed for the first sector checkpoint.  
  
Logan and Bling crossed the Canadian border then headed east along the Trans-Canada Highway. It was potholed and rough in many places, another casualty of the pulse, but was much safer to travel than the interstates. They purchased extra gas and supplies at the first service station they found not knowing what would be available further down the road. They made good time since neither of them was inclined to stop for long and there were no longer any traffic officers or posted speed limits to consider.  
  
Bling had driven most of the first day and Logan had driven through the night winding his way up and down the rocky mountains while Bling had caught some rest. When Bling awoke they were well into the province of Alberta. They stopped at the first small town to replenish their supplies then Bling took over the wheel. Logan hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours but despite his obvious exhaustion he just stared at the mile markers along the highway, not willing to sleep or talk.   
  
"Why don't you close your eyes for a few minutes?" Bling looked at Logan in concern.  
  
"Not tired." Logan kept staring at the mile markers.  
  
"Logan, you need to catch some sleep or you won't be able to drive the next leg. You'll probably drive us off the road." Bling tried the logical approach.  
  
'Not tired."   
  
"Logan, I'm really concerned about you. Please try and get some rest." He was pleading now.  
  
"Hmm"  
  
"Logan please...." Bling stopped short. Logan didn't even hear him. In frustration he stopped the car and turned off the engine.  
  
"What are you doing?" Logan turned to him in shock. "Start the car."  
  
"This vehicle isn't going anywhere until you close your eyes." Bling stared at Logan with determination.  
  
"Look Bling, I'm not tired." Logan stared back just as intensely. "I'm fine. Just start the car."  
  
Bling returned his gaze and waited. An hour later they were still sitting there.  
  
"Fine." Logan gave Bling an exasperated glare then reclined the seat and closed his eyes. A moment later he opened his eyes and glared at Bling again.  
  
"Keep them closed!" Bling started the engine. This time Logan conceded and kept his eyes closed. Although Logan wasn't willing to relax his exhausted body complied and a few minutes later Bling was relieved to hear Logan's breathing deepen as he fell asleep.  
  
As Bling drove he would often look over at Logan's sleeping form needing to reassure himself that Logan was still okay. Logan appeared to function on a superficial level but his eyes betrayed his hidden turmoil. The grief he was holding inside him was destroying him but he wasn't able to express it. Bling recognized this pattern. In the year he had known him, Logan had never been good at expressing his emotions. He would push through the days burying his anger and frustration in his work. During those few times that Logan had allowed his feelings out Bling had been shocked at the depth of his despair. Sometimes Bling felt it was a miracle that Logan had made it so far. If it weren't for Max and his journal writing he would probably have lost him long ago. Now Max was gone and Logan hadn't written a thing since her death. Bling had offered a listening ear, but while Logan seemed appreciative of his presence he wasn't able to talk to him. This visit to Charlie was Bling's last hope. He was willing to do anything to get his friend through this and if it took driving across the continent he would do it. If Logan could talk to Charlie and find some solace with him Bling was willing to die to get him there.  
  
Logan awoke several hours later surprising himself that he was able to sleep so long. They stopped to stretch a few minutes and pulled out some food from the back of the jeep then Bling went back to driving and Logan returned to staring at the road. The endless miles of abandoned farmland they passed reflected the barrenness of his soul. Max was dead.  
  
Logan was grateful to be able to drive again that night. There was no way he could sleep so he took the wheel and counted the miles. The driving and the counting were something he could focus on. They were heading east driving into the horizon. In a few hours the sun would rise in front of him. He pushed the jeep to the limits of its ability wanting to reach it as soon as possible, needing to see its light. When then sun finally came up he woke up Bling and they stopped for a few minutes to rest and eat. Then Bling took the wheel and Logan allowed himself to sleep for a few hours. Their routine was established as they settled in for the thousands of miles yet to cover. Five days survived and an eternity to go.  
  
  
Charlie and Case had been in Hamilton Ontario Canada for two weeks. They had easily slipped into Hamilton life. Charlie found an apartment the day they arrived and forwarded his location via the secure channel Logan had given him. Then he never contacted Logan again.  
  
The documentation Logan had provided was first class. Charlie and Case were Joshua and Jordan Kelly now. He had found work as a longshoreman at the Port of Hamilton, which was one of the remaining functioning East Coast ports. There was still work there for anyone who didn't mind hard labor and long hours so the port saw a constant influx of people looking for a day's or a week's or a year's worth of work.   
  
It was the perfect job for him. He poured out his hate, his anger and his loss into his work as he tackled the physical challenge of the job. At the end of the day his body was tired, his hate was spent and all that was left was the love that he shared with his son. Charlie spent most of his time outside of work with Case, playing with him, talking with him and just being together. They spent even more time with each other than they had in Portland wanting to enjoy every precious moment together. They would often talk about Tinga and how much they loved and missed and every night before bed they would tell each other Mommy's story about the princess, the castle and the evil king. But it the daytime Case seemed like any other happy little boy. He had instinctively adopted their new names and never slipped up. He seemed unfazed by his new life adapting easily to his new city, new school and new friends. His resilience was amazing to Charlie.  
  
Life in Hamilton was different from Portland. There was less grime and graffiti in the streets but it was the attitude of the people that most stood out to Charlie. Despite the economic hardship that they faced they had a determination to succeed. He saw it in the faces on the street and in the faces of his crew at work. They were strong hard men familiar with the harshness of life. They were used to fighting battles and had the scars to prove it. They continued to fight every day. They fought the containers which they manhandled on and off ships. They fought the foremen that controlled their work and at the end of the day they fought each other. They respected the ability to fight, to win and to lose. They were survivors.   
  
Charlie was half the size of some of these men yet they respected him and treated him as their equal. They recognized the strength in his eyes, the strength that he had discovered when he lost Tinga the first time and reinforced when he had to let her go again. Tinga was willing to do anything to protect their son and so was Charlie. He too had become a survivor.  
  
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A week later Bling and Logan pulled into Hamilton and drove directly to the address Charlie had given them. The building was old but clean and well cared for.  
  
"Yes?" An older woman answered their knock on the door.  
  
"Hi. My name's John and this is Peter. We're friends of Joshua's from out of town." Logan could hear Case playing in the background.  
  
"I'm Mary, Joshua's neighbor." The woman smiled warmly. "I usually stay with Jordan until Joshua gets home." She rolled her eyes at the racket going on behind her.  
  
"You can find him at the waterfront. Pier 10. Shift ends at six." She looked over her shoulder to make sure everything was okay then looked back at Logan. "Sorry, I have to keep my eye on him so he doesn't tear the place down."  
  
"No problem." Logan smiled at Mary. "Thanks for the directions. We'll look for him there." The woman's trusting nature shocked Logan. Despite his own preoccupations with security it was a refreshing change from Seattle where everyone was suspicious and protective of their privacy.  
  
Logan and Bling headed back to the car and drove to the waterfront. They found Pier 10 easily and pulled over with the other vehicles that seemed to be arriving for the end of the shift. Logan climbed out of the car, leaned on the driver's door and settled in to wait for Charlie.   
  
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It had been a long day. The port had moved twenty thousand tons of goods that day, about two thirds of what moved through in the pre-pulse years, but still enough to push several crews hard. Charlie pushed his hardhat further over his head and lifted up the collar of his mac jacket against the wind that constantly blew along the waterfront. He looked at the crews working around him pushing to empty one final container onto waiting trucks. An assortment of old vehicles were pulling over at the end of the dock. Wives, brothers, girlfriends, were arriving to pick up the men at the end of the shift. There was no public transportation this far along the waterfront and even with the work available in this town no one could afford to park a car all day. There were half a dozen unfamiliar vehicles today, belonging to new workers who like Charlie had found their way into town. A tall blond man climbed out of an old black jeep and leaned against the door. He didn't look like a dockworker. He was probably there to pick up a girlfriend who worked in one of the small coffee shops that lined the docks. He was early though, the girls usually worked another hour, feeding and serving coffee to the men that swarmed off the docks. Another neophyte. He'd figure it out soon enough. Charlie was one himself but the rhythm of the waterfront had quickly established itself in his mind. As the whistle blew to signal the end of shift he trudged back up the dock with the rest of his crew. They worked their way past the waiting cars heading for their rides. Charlie glanced at the man leaning on the jeep who met his gaze with an inquiring look. It was then that he noticed the man's eyes.  
  
Charlie recognized the look in those eyes. He saw it every day in the men that worked around him and he saw it in the mirror every morning. It was the look of wars fought and won and lost, the look of almost unbearable losses and of the battle to survive. The eyes were piercing blue and intelligent. Charlie knew only one man with eyes like that, Logan Cale. But this man's eyes were different, the depth of the loss revealed in them was a thousand times what he remembered seeing in Logan's eyes. It sent a chill down his spine and stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"Later." He punched the fists of his crew, their usual goodbye. He turned around and walked back to the black jeep.  
  
"Logan?" Charlie placed his hand tentatively on the man's shoulder. His voice was cautious, unsure.  
  
"Joshua?" He used Charlie's new name. It was Logan.  
  
Charlie reached out to shake Logan's hand then in a moment of spontaneous emotion he pulled Logan into a rough embrace. They had spent only twenty-four hours together but their circumstances had brought him closer to this man than anyone else in his life besides Tinga and Case. Logan returned the embrace with a desperation for human contact that shocked Charlie. But after a brief moment Logan pulled himself away suppressing the emotion that had begun to pour out of him.  
  
"I almost didn't recognize you." Charlie indicated his surprise at seeing Logan standing up. "What happened to the chair?"  
  
"It's in the back, I still use it sometimes." Logan pointed to the back of the jeep then explained the workings of the exoskeleton to Charlie.  
  
"You must be so happy man, to be back on your feet again."  
  
"Yeah. It's a miracle." Logan's words said one thing, but his voice and his eyes revealed an underlying tragedy that even overwhelmed the miracle of being able to walk again.  
  
"Call me John." Logan abruptly changed the subject. "I'd like to introduce you to Peter." Bling got out of the car and shook Charlie's hand. Charlie remembered Bling from Logan's apartment.  
  
"How've you been keepin' man?" Bling asked.  
  
"Survivin'." It was an accurate one-word description of Charlie's life.  
  
"What brings you guys here?" Charlie already knew the answer. It was written all over Logan's face and buried in his eyes. He dreaded hearing the words yet he had to acknowledge them.  
  
"Let's walk." Logan headed down the waterfront. They were silent for a long time as Logan put his thoughts together.  
  
"Max and I got together." Logan's voice was distant as if the event was an eternity ago. "You were right, every second together was worth it."  
  
"That's great man. She's a wonderful woman." At the word's Logan stopped and turned to face Charlie. Tears were pouring down his cheeks.  
  
"Charlie...." For once Logan forgot about any security precautions. "Max is dead and so is Tinga. I'm so sorry." The loss and the ache, which Logan had suppressed for so long, poured out of him in huge sobs. He reached out to Charlie desperate to share his grief with someone who understood.  
  
"I know, I know..." Charlie wrapped his arms around Logan as the tears began to flow from the depths of his soul as well. They held each other in a desperate embrace. They stood for a long time on the now empty docks; the wind whipping at them as they struggled to support each other against the tragedy that threatened to crush them both.  
  
To be continued...  



	4. The Long Road Back

Disclaimer: I don't own em'  
  
Title: Mourning  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: All episodes  
  
Summary: Logan, Bling and Charlie deal with the death of Max and Tinga.  
  
A/N:   
  
First of all thanks to all you dedicated readers for all your thoughtful reviews. I really appreciate them. There are so many great fics out there right now it's hard to keep up!   
  
I couldn't help thinking about how Max's death would affect Logan if he didn't find out right away that she was alive. Would Logan ever be able to deal with her loss? This fic explores some of the possibilities.  
  
Well, here it is the final chapter.  
  
Chapter 4: The Long Road Back  
  
"You're staying at my place tonight." Charlie was the first to emerge from their overwhelming sorrow. He relaxed his hold on Logan and with one arm still over his shoulder guided Logan back towards the jeep.  
  
"But..."   
  
"No." Charlie gently cut Logan off. "You invited me as a guest into your home when my life fell apart and helped me back on my feet again. Please let me return the favor."  
  
Logan nodded his head in compliance. Now that he had allowed himself to acknowledge the magnitude of his loss he was so drained he no longer had the strength to resist.  
  
Bling drove them back to Charlie's apartment. As they walked in the door Case ran from Mary and bounded into Charlie's arms.  
  
"See you tomorrow." Mary smiled at Case's antics and slid out the door.  
  
"Daddy!" Case gave his dad a spontaneous joyful hug then stepped back and noticed the tears in the three men's eyes. He looked at them in shock for a moment then a deep sorrow overshadowed his young face.   
  
"Mommy died fighting the evil king." His quiet voice revealed an understanding beyond his years.   
  
"I'm so sorry honey." Charlie's voice broke as he picked Case up. They buried their heads in each other shoulders sobbing for the loss of Tinga. Logan and Bling looked on with nothing to offer but tears of their own.  
  
Several hours later they had calmed down enough to prepare a small meal for Case and to tuck the exhausted child into bed. Bling stayed by the bed so he wouldn't be alone if he woke up during the night.  
  
Charlie led Logan to the kitchen table and offered him a drink. Their faces were etched with the sorrow of the day but their eyes were dry. Neither man had any tears left to shed.  
  
"To Max and Tinga." Charlie raised his glass towards Logan.  
  
"To Tinga and Max." Logan raised his glass in return.  
  
"Tinga was only seventeen when I met her. I was ten years older than her. I had never been attracted to younger women, but there was a maturity about her beyond her years."  
  
"I know. Max had it too, an old soul." Logan had a far away look in his eyes.  
  
"An old soul." Charlie's thoughts drifted back to Tinga. "You're so right. We talked forever that first night. I poured out my heart to her. You know she tried to tell me about herself then but I wasn't ready to hear it." Charlie paused for a moment. "How did you find out about Max?"  
  
"The night we met she jumped out my window and landed on her feet several stories below. That was a clue I think." Logan smiled ironically.  
  
"I know what you mean. When Tinga punched a hole in our wall and pulled out a machine gun it kinda change my perspective too." Charlie chuckled. "The truth is she was always different. I knew that she was stronger and faster and smarter than I was. It seemed to me that she was holding back, not showing all of her abilities. She could have done anything she wanted to. I couldn't figure out what she was doing working in a bakery, married to me, living our simple life. But she seemed so happy so I never asked her." Charlie paused, remembering the simple quite moments he had with his wife and the love and sparkle in her eyes as they played with their son. "She was just so happy."  
  
"You gave her a wonderful gift. With you she found what she thought she would never have. She found love with you." Logan looked at Charlie with a deep understanding in his eyes.  
  
"And I found it with her." Charlie fell into a long silence as his gaze fell back onto his drink.  
  
After a long while Charlie looked up at Logan.  
  
"How did you get injured?" His voice revealed the concern of a friend.  
  
"It happened about a year ago, a few days after I met Max. I was shot." Logan paused, thinking about those days and what he had been like back then.  
  
"I think I was the main reason we didn't get together sooner. I was so cocky then. There was something special about her that attracted me right away but I was going to control our relationship. We were going to get together on my terms. It didn't matter that she took my bodyguard out with one hand she was a girl and I could manipulate her no problem. I even prepped a romantic candle light dinner for her thinking I could charm her into working with me and maybe doing a little dating on the side."  
  
"You did that?" Charlie chuckled at the idea of anyone charming Max or Tinga into doing anything.  
  
'Yeah." Logan couldn't help smiling as well. Then he became serious again.  
  
"After the shooting everything changed. I didn't have control of anything anymore, not Max, not my life, not my body. I didn't know who or what I was anymore. I didn't know how people would look at me, whether they would ever see me again or just another cripple. I couldn't even think about a relationship. I just needed a friend, someone who could see past the chair I was in. Max did that for me. She always treated me as a whole person. I lived for the times she would come over and play chess or just raid my fridge." Logan looked at Charlie then looked down at his hands and continued.  
  
"I always loved her but I wouldn't let myself think about it because my insecurities just kept coming back. I struggled with it this whole year but I couldn't seem to beat them. I was always so afraid of what would happen if I showed my love for her. I never considered what would happen if I didn't. I almost missed my chance with her." Logan looked intently at Charlie. "If I hadn't seen you and Tinga together and heard what you said I probably wouldn't have had the courage to reach out to her. In the end I never got the opportunity to tell her I loved her but I think she knew."  
  
"She did. I saw it in her eyes." Charlie reached out to comfort Logan. "She loved you too."  
  
'Thanks.... I know. She wasn't able to say it either but she showed me in so many ways." Logan smiled thinking about what Max had shared with him. "Despite her childhood, she had an enormous capacity for love."  
  
"Tinga was the same way. I didn't know why then but it was obvious that our family, and our love was the most precious thing to her." Charlie smiled back at Logan.  
  
"You know I took Max to my cousin's wedding a few months ago." Logan paused, thinking about everything that happened on that day. "She was so cynical, on the way there, calling weddings a public humiliation. She even said she could fence the wedding ring for ten thousand dollars!" Both Logan and Charlie laughed at that.   
  
"Then when Bennett and Maryanne were saying their vows I caught her crying. She was always such a contradiction." Logan's thoughts drifted back to that moment then he looked up at Charlie with another smile on his face. "She was so beautiful that day. She took my breath away."  
  
Logan and Charlie continued to talk through the night. They shared their memories of Max and Tinga, their beauty, their strength and their love. They talked about their frustrations, their irritating habits and their hilarious moments together. They laughed and they cried as their memories came alive.  
  
Charlie opened his home to Logan and Bling. None of them wanted to lose the connection that they had made. The strength and comfort they received from each other helped them to bear the weight of their loss. Logan and Charlie spoke for hours each night as they shared their grief and found solace in each other.   
  
In the early mornings, while the others were asleep, Logan would climb up to Charlie's roof to watch the sunrise and think about Max. Then a few hours later he would climb down and cook breakfast for everyone. He enjoyed the energy of the mornings as Charlie and Case rushed around getting ready for work and school. Logan even looked forward to the quiet hours of the day when Charlie and Case had left and Bling was off exploring the city. He began to feel at peace in those hours and for the first time in days he pulled out his journal and started writing again.   
  
In the afternoon Logan would go shopping with Bling, exploring the local markets and filling Charlie's cupboards with all the food they could find. Logan insisted on cooking the meals. He would come home from their forays each day ready to dive into the kitchen. Then when Case would arrive home from school he would drop his preparations and roughhouse with him on the living room floor. He would lose himself in those moments of childish games and laughter. Their neighbor Mary rolled her eyes at their antics and Bling couldn't help laughing as well as he watched the life come back into Logan's eyes.  
  
"Charlie." One morning Logan shook Charlie awake and led him up to the roof.  
  
"The world looks different from up here." Charlie mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep.  
  
"Max loved to spend time on the roof of the Space Needle in Seattle. She said it helped her get perspective in life." Logan watched the sun as it began to creep up over the horizon. "I climbed up there a few times after she died. It was her favorite place. When I was up there I felt like she wasn't really dead, that she was with me." Logan was quiet for a moment. "I'd stay up there until the sun came up. Roof tops and sunrises. I think they are the only things that have kept me sane."  
  
"It's really beautiful up here." Charlie gazed all around him then turned towards the horizon. "It makes you feel that you can go on."  
  
"Are we going to make it through this?" Logan turned towards Charlie seeking some hope.  
  
"When Tinga first disappeared I couldn't deal. I told you that." Charlie was still looking at the sunrise. He paused for a moment then turned to face Logan. "But somehow when I thought about her it helped me to keep it together. It's even stronger now, like she really is with me. What Tinga and I have didn't die with her, it's still there, it's eternal and it sustains me. Tinga sustains me."  
  
Charlie placed his hands on Logan's shoulders. He looked intensely at Logan, a reassuring conviction in his eyes. "Max will sustain you too."  
  
As their tears began to flow again Charlie pulled Logan into another hug. They mourned together sharing their grief and sorrow. But this wasn't the desperate embrace of that first day on the docks. They had found strength in each other and in the love that they had for Max and Tinga. This was an embrace of love, of shared joys and sorrows and of hope for the future.  
  
"Thanks man." Logan released his hold and brushed the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "I really appreciate your help."  
  
"Anything for my family." Charlie smiled at Logan while wiping his own tears away. "Thanks for not letting me feel so alone."  
  
They took a final look at the sun as it rose over the horizon then climbed back downstairs to face their lives.  
  
The next morning Logan cooked a final breakfast for everyone. As they ate there seemed to be a lightness in the air that he hadn't felt for weeks. He watched Charlie and Case eating and talking and teasing each other. He knew they would be okay. They had a strength and resilience that would get them through this. Their love would sustain them. And for the first time Logan felt that he could be okay too. He had stopped counting the minutes since he had lost Max. He couldn't even remember when he stopped. He would always have Max and she would have him. His love would sustain him too.  
  
Logan and Bling grabbed their bags and headed out to the jeep. They enjoyed a final round of hugs and enthusiastic goodbye's from Case then Logan turned to Charlie.  
  
"I'll stay in touch." Logan shook Charlie's hand, his eyes magnifying the meaning of the simple words.  
  
"We will too." Charlie returned the handshake then picked Case up as Logan and Bling tossed their duffel bags into the back of the jeep.  
  
Logan climbed into the driver's seat and gave a final wave to Charlie and Case. As they stood there, waving goodbye, he could see their love for each other and for Tinga and their love for him. They had helped him find the strength he needed to go on.   
  
"Thanks for getting me here." Logan turned to Bling who had climbed into the passenger seat. A deep gratitude was reflected in his voice.   
  
"You'll make it Man." Bling placed a comforting hand on Logan's. His eyes revealed his love and compassion for his friend.  
  
Logan placed the key in the ignition, started the engine and began the long road back to a life without Max.  
  
END  
  
A/N: Let me know, was this realistic? Would Logan ever allow himself to express his feelings about Max's death or would he just bury them? Would he ever be able to find hope again without her? Please R&R.  
  



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